Disclaimer: If you recognise it, surprise, I don't own it.

Chapter 53- Where Is It?

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Alright, it is time to stop focusing on those stupid medaling kids. I have spent far too long trailing behind them, hoping that they would take care of all the shit and prevent me from stepping in shit. But clearly, that was a pipe dream. Things went off course the moment I boarded that train and talked to a student, hell, probably since I showed up in this world. It was ludicrous to think that things could have kept chugging on unchanged, but I hoped...

It doesn't matter what I hoped, things are off track now, and so I have to take control of this train. With no certainty in the future, I can't rely on Harry taking care of Voldemort and his Horcruxes anymore. Even if he does have plot armour, I can't trust in that. Which is why I need to take care of this thing myself, starting with this little black book. Which is why I went directly to the point of contention, which in this case was Ginny Weasley.

I managed to keep her back after one of her lessons, and the girl looked scared as shit. Seriously, she was a far cry from that girl in the bookstore who was shouting at Draco Malfoy and protecting Harry. She was pale and shaking and looked very guilty. I didn't waste any time and delved straight into her little defenceless mind, getting to the crux of the matter. And I discovered what really happened last night... not.

There were glimpses, small cuts of memories of what she was doing that night. A corridor, killing chickens, writing blood on the wall, a bathroom, dark green, almost black scales. Tom Riddle had obviously overridden her mind and possessed her body for his own ends. She had had the book for over three or so months now, so his hold on her was enough for that. And he had had enough waiting because the very next night, he went out to strike again.

Except he had acted too soon. Clearly, the fate of Filch was weighing on Ginny's mind. She had questioned him that very same night and Riddle had just brushed her off. The trust was broken, and she came to in the bathroom. Realising what was happening, she threw the book, and she fled. And then she had spent every night worrying over it and what had happened. She actually had plans to go back there and get the book, thinking of destroying it. She would just get possessed again, though.

I left her mind and reassured her that she would be fine and that everything would be okay. I also made sure to put a strong suggestion to ignore the book from now on so I could get it myself and deal with it. And so I went on after that very meeting to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom to retrieve the book.

So it turns out Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was on the same corridor where the incident happened. Like, literally, it was metres away. The water that was on the floor, and which the victims looked into to become petrified, came from the bathroom. Which leads me to believe it was a crime of circumstance and spontaneity. They just happened to be there. If a student had been walking down, they could have been attacked. I can be attacked. The attacks no longer have confirmed targets. It could be anyone, anywhere.

Anyway, I went straight to the bathroom to look for the stupid, evil, cursed book. Thankfully, it seemed that the annoying ghost that lived here wasn't home, so that was great. And so I got to searching, but... I couldn't find the fucking thing. Seriously, no matter where I looked, I couldn't find it. And trust me, I looked. I used all the magic I could, but the thing just wasn't there. It's gone. Meaning somebody took it, and it wasn't Ginny. And I know it wasn't Harry or his friends because I sometimes check their minds, you know, just for updates.

"What are you doing?" I spin around at the nasally voice, spotting a flying, annoying girl looking down at me with a judging face. "This is the girls' bathroom! You can't be here!" She shouts at me, and for a moment, I feel like investing my time in researching ghosts and how to exorcise them. But I have priorities, and I need to focus on dealing with this fucking book.

"I heard that a student had been up to trouble in here, so I was just checking it out," I explain quite calmly since I had the authority in this situation as the teacher. In fact- "You wouldn't have happened to see a black book in here, would you?" I ask her since this is her home. If anybody could give me a clue to finding that book, it would be her.

"Hm? I have actually. Some red-haired girl came in here crying, and she threw a tamper. Really annoying." Myrtle doesn't realise the irony in her words as she says that since she herself is probably one of the most annoying things in this school. "She threw a black book over into the corner there. Though it isn't there anymore." I get my hopes up, and then she dashes them, pointing at an empty corner of the bathroom.

"Were there any other students coming here? Somebody that could have taken it?" I ask, not letting this lead go. If I find out who took it, I could mind whammy them before they even had a chance to get too hooked on the book, and I could take it. "There was, actually. Though I didn't get a good look at them, they left just as I got here." She says, and isn't that a smack in the face. A student has it, one I don't know about. It could be anyone... I should have taken it when Ginny had it when I had the chance.

I left the bathroom after that, trying to figure out where to go from here. I don't know who in this entire school has the book, so I should stop focusing on it. That is out of my hands now, so I should focus on what I can do. Which at this point is to prepare to face a Basilisk and maybe plan to go and kill it first. And think about its weaknesses. I mean, at the end of the day, it is just a bigger, stronger snake, so I should see what snakes hate? It wouldn't hurt to do that.

And so I began to prepare myself. I have the entire Hogwarts Library in my hands, one of the biggest repositories of knowledge in the world, and so I should make use of it. And that includes the restricted section as well. So, I took to going to the library whenever I had the chance, and since I didn't want to be disturbed, I always used disillusionment and other spells to keep me hidden.

The people in the castle, taking notice of my absence, began to wonder what I was up to, and the general consensus was that I was searching for the culprit and the Chamber of Secrets. I already knew where the chamber was, but I didn't know the culprit. Well, I knew the culprit, but not the one that would be doing the future attacks. Whenever anyone asked me, I would just give them a smile before ignoring them. Most took that as confirmation.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

So, during the day, I would go to the library and learn all I could, magic-wise. Whether that be spells or theory. From charms to transfiguration and hexes. I researched through multiple fields, looking for anything that could aid me with my plans. In fact, I had to direct my search using my other research on magical snakes and snakes in general. My research into magical snakes, in general, was a bust since they were so varied and different that the weaknesses were not shared.

My research into the Basilisk revealed just how fucked I might actually be. Let's just say it took around a hundred wizards to take down a Baslisk back in the day, and those were just the normal ones. Not ones that had been living and hibernating for over a thousand years. Even the young ones took a lot to kill, and that was because they had a magical hide which was nearly invulnerable to everything, magic included. Its weaknesses were its eyes and the inside of it.

Which made things difficult as it was hard to hit the eyes without looking at them, which would get you petrified. And the only time you would have access to its insides was when it was trying to swallow you down its throat. Now, I am sure a thousand people could come up with plans to take this thing down, acting like it would be a walk in the park. They would be wrong. A Basilisk keeps its eyes on its prey at all times, which is why it took hundreds of wizards to take them down. There is too much prey to focus on.

And the only time a Basilisk opened its mouth wide enough to try and attack it was when it was trying to eat you; otherwise, it just slips its tongue out of its mouth every so often. Through all my research, I came to find a few things that would be useful. First of all, chickens only worked on young Basilisks. At most, they would be an annoyance, something to distract the Basilisk and give it a target. A weakness would be the cold. Snakes are cold-blooded, so I invested time into looking into any magic to do with the cold, from minor household spells to big battle spells.

One thing I discovered is that snakes are sensitive to vibrations, ergo, sounds. Which is probably why a chicken's crow hurts it. However, literally, no wizard had ever tried to make a spell using vibrations. Sounds, yes. But not to the point of using them as an attack. With such an avenue of attack, I could rupture the snakes' insides from a distance. Maybe, I am still not quite sure how it works. But it will definitely hurt the thing. Which is why I have been putting my time into trying to develop a spell which sends out vibrational waves... all I've got at the moment is a loud, annoying screeching noise which reminds me of Myrtle.

I go to the restricted section at night because that is where the dangerous stuff that could hurt a Basilisk will be. I don't want anyone to know I am regularly going there, as it could raise suspicions. I take whatever books I can, wanting to learn as much as I can. I take whatever is interesting, ignoring any that are harmful or have defences which will take too much to crack. I have some interesting reading for nighttime.

Now, during all of this, what have the kids been doing? Well, for that, we had to go back a while before I started my research.

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Since the disastrous episode of the pixies, Professor Lockhart had not brought live creatures to class. Instead, he takes pleasure in making them do various strenuous activities that don't even involve magic. The only time they would use magic was at the beginning of the week, where, in a single lesson, Professor Lockhart would give them a lesson on a spell and then tell them to practice it on their own for a showcase at the end of the week, where her would give advice and then that would be that.

The rest of the time, it was all of the activities he had them doing, with the occasional lesson where he couldn't be bothered and told them to read the books, which had information throughout the story. In fact, all of the main curriculum, which would be in the test at the end of the year, they had to learn themselves. When Hermione questioned the professor on this, he explained that with the attack that happened, he thought it better to give them more practical lessons. Hermione couldn't argue against that even though she tried because, for the rest of the class, their lives were more important than the end-of-year exams.

So, during their very next Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, Professor Lockhart had them doing another game or sport or whatever it was. This time, he had them doing a game of tag. Well, some variation of it. Lockhart called it Werewolf, which made some of the others a bit iffy. Basically, one of the students was the Werewolf, and they were allowed to use their wand to try and get the other students. You couldn't knock them out, and you had to touch them on the neck with a finger to infect them and turn them to your side, though they didn't get to use their wands. The others all had to escape as best they could, with no magic whatsoever.

Right now, everybody was a Werewolf. All except Harry, who continued to run for his life, running away from them and avoiding the spells fired by Parvati Patil to the best of his abilities. Harry was better than everyone else, given his training for Quidditch, and all those years running away from Dudley and his gang certainly helped. Harry hunting was a challenging activity for the rest of the class, which was why Lockhart was trying to help them.

"Alright, keep following him. Don't just keep chasing him! Think about where he is going to be. Anticipate!" Lockhart yells from the side, where he is sitting in a beach chair that he had conjured on this hot sunny day, sitting under an umbrella and drinking from a cup Harry did not know the contents of. "Parvati! You have a wand, but all of your fellow Werewolves are getting in the way! You are in charge here! Tell them what to do!" Lockhart shouts. More often than not, Parvati's spells end up affecting the other students who were making nice meatshields for Harry as he ran from them.

"Now, Ron!" Hermione's shout is the only thing that gives Harry any warning before he is suddenly tackled to the ground. The rest of the students had been acting as a barrier, stopping Harry from seeing Ron, who had been waiting up ahead and, at Hermione's signal, tackled Harry to the ground. Harry felt Ron's finger jab him in the shoulder and quickly went limp on the ground. Ron rolled off of him, and they both lay there on the grass, panting for breath. "Got you..." Ron said weakly, and Harry could only smile. "Yeah." And then Lockhart got up, bringing an end to the class.

"All right, we are done. Homework! The same as always, practice this week's spell and continue your self-revision for the end-of-the-year exams! Those of you who need aid, go to Madam Pomfrey. Dismissed." The class began to leave, some carrying others in the direction of Madam Pomfrey. Harry moved over to near Professor Lockhart, who was packing up himself, where Ron and Hermione were waiting.

"Ready?" Harry muttered. "Wait till everyone's gone," said Hermione nervously.

"All right..." She approached Lockhart's desk, a piece of paper clutched tightly in her hand, Harry and Ron right behind her.

"Er - Professor Lockhart?" Hermione stammered. "I wanted to- to get this book out of the library. Just for background reading." She held out the piece of paper, her hand shaking slightly. "But the thing is, it's in the Restricted Section of the library, so I need a teacher to sign for it- I'm sure it would help me understand what you say in Gadding with Ghouls about slow-acting venoms."

"Ah, Gadding with Ghouls!" said Lockhart, taking the note from Hermione and smiling widely at her. "Possibly my very favourite book. You enjoyed it?"

"Oh, yes," said Hermione eagerly. "So clever, the way you trapped that last one with the tea strainer-"

"Well, I'm sure no one will mind me giving the best student of the year a little extra help," said Lockhart warmly, and he pulled out an eloquent quill. "Yes, nice, isn't it?" he said, seeing the look on Ron's face. "I usually save it for book signings." He scrawled an enormous loopy signature on the note and handed it back to Hermione.

"So, Harry," said Lockhart while Hermione folded the note with fumbling fingers and slipped it into her bag. "Tomorrow's the first Quidditch match of the season, I believe? Gryffindor against Slytherin, is it not? I hear you're a useful player. I was a Seeker, too. Back when Hogwarts was my playground. I could have tried for the National Squad, but I preferred to dedicate my life in another direction. If you ever want any advice, all you have to do is ask." Harry made an indistinct noise in his throat and then hurried off after Ron and Hermione.

"I don't believe it," he said as the three of them examined the signature on the note. "He didn't even look at the book we wanted."

"That's because he's a brainless git," said Ron. "But who cares? We've got what we needed-"

"He is not a brainless git," said Hermione shrilly as they half ran toward the library.

"Just because he said you were the best student of the year-" They dropped their voices as they entered the muffled stillness of the library. Madam Pince, the librarian, was a thin, irritable woman who looked like an underfed vulture.

"Moste Potente Potions?" she repeated suspiciously, trying to take the note from Hermione, but Hermione wouldn't let go. "I was wondering if I could keep it," she said breathlessly.

"Oh, come on," said Ron, wrenching it from her grasp and thrusting it at Madam Pince. "We'll get you another autograph. Lockhart'll sign anything if it stands still long enough." Madam Pince held the note up to the light as though determined to detect a forgery, but it passed the test. She stalked away between the lofty shelves and returned several minutes later carrying a large and moldy-looking book. Hermione put it carefully into her bag, and they left, trying not to walk too quickly or look too guilty.